the craft. the personal essay recipe.
I came to writing for public consumption by way of personal blogging. Of course, I always had a knack for writing, but it was in the 2010-2013 time frame that blogging became a viable option for me to get some of my thoughts out into the world. I was trying to find my way. I had pivoted majors in college from Journalism to Communications, but I knew I still wanted to write, only with a bit more of my own personal spin. So outside of doing some music journalism for multiple outlets, I ventured into telling personal stories 600-800 words at a time.
Most of us were probably oversharing. Ha! I mean blogs became these online journals for many, but there was also this amazing point of connectivity. Endless opportunities to see that you may not have been alone in the growing pains of coming to age during a recession or navigating the dating scene. In my opinion, the world of journalism caught on. They realized that this idea of personal storytelling wasn’t going anywhere and eventually began to incorporate personal bloggers into the fabric of freelance work. While they always existed, I do believe we started to see a boom in the popularity of the personal essay. Sometimes relegated to think pieces or elevated into reported pieces, but there was a demand for storytelling that connected, and so many writers delivered.
We’ve talked about the need to tie into universal truths when it comes to personal essay writing. This idea that our experiences are connected to this larger human experience which those personal blogs did so well. So, I wanted to dissect the pieces of a few personal essays, to highlight what truly makes them work.
When I think about one of Danyel Smith’s most recent pieces for the New York Times, “I Knew Diddy for Years. What I Now Remember, Haunts Me,” I think about the timeliness. This is such an important factor when it comes to why certain personal essays work. You cannot deny how shocking and downright polarizing this whole Diddy case has been. So that in itself is doing some of the work for this piece. Many people are consuming a lot to put together the picture of this man that the world championed, but turned out to be another predator hiding in plain sight.
This piece also has a masterful introduction and start. The reality is, nowadays, you have to grab people even quicker than before. Does your first line make me say, “I want to know more?” I think Smith achieves that here, her first paragraph absolutely makes me want to keep reading.
“A thing happened between Sean Combs and me.”
Immediately, I want to know what happened? I need to keep reading to find out but the rest of the paragraph sets it up perfectly, still without giving much away so that I will keep scrolling past this introduction. It’s captivating and the suspense is there from the beginning.
“Unlike what he has been accused of over the last eight months, what occurred between us was not sexual. It was professional — demonstrative of the way dynamic and domineering men moved in our heyday. Combs and I worked together a lot. Competed, in our way. So often I thought I came out on top. I was mistaken. I had reason to fear for my life. What happened was insidious. It broke my brain. I forgot the worst of it for 27 years.”
I’ve said before that all writing should have a sense of suspense. I know we often think about suspense in reference to mysteries, but suspense is what keeps us reading and all really great work has that. The reader wants to know what happened here, but structure and organization is so pivotal in keeping them engaged. Knowing what to give and what to hold onto and when to reveal is a major key in all forms of writing.
In an essay from his book, What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker, Damon Young talks about his relationship to his parents. The essay is titled “Living While Black Killed My Mom” yet most of the first few pages of the piece are all about his relationship with his father. In reading, you may find yourself asking, “When does he get to his mother?” This is part of what makes the essay intriguing. Then we get to this turning point.
“His presence has enhanced my life in a way that’s beyond mortal comprehension. But I am haunted by the possibility that this enhancement of my years on earth snatched years away from my mom.”
Now, we flip into where these two storylines intertwine. Both his relationship to his father, and his relationship to his mother, and the push and pull. We also get the tie into the universal truth about discrimination in the healthcare system and the statistics that Black women are more likely to receive later diagnosis as he recounts his mom’s battle with cancer.
“I think she might still be alive today if she had been a white woman from Mount Lebanon or Fox Chapel or Morningside, or Bloomfield or wherever the fuck upper-middle-class white women are from instead of a working-class Black woman who grew up in a brownstone co-op at the top of the hill on Tilden Street in Belmar Gardens.”
In the meat of these personal essays, we also see declarations, or a strong thesis. In the midst of the storytelling, the narrator is telling us something that they believe. Making some type of statement. Why are you writing this essay? From the bare bones of essay writing that we learn in elementary school, you need a thesis stated in that opening paragraph that by the end of it, we should understand something about where you stand as the author.
Here, in his book, Everything and Nothing at Once, Joel Léon says this about home in his essay, “Homecoming.”
“Coming back home has a price. Choosing to stay home, and rebuild it? A potentially bigger one.”
Throughout the essay, Leon highlights various rappers who have met their untimely demise but intertwined with the author’s own personal narrative. We get multiple perspectives on home, what it means, whether it’s more than a place and the true dangers that come with the idea of being physically present in it, especially after achieving a certain amount of success. By the conclusion of the essay, Leon writes:
“Home can be unforgiving. Home can be as sterile as a bullet wound, as stiff as a corpse. Home can be as hard as saying bye, or overstaying your welcome.”
What I have found to be the best elements of a personal essay are:
An enticing lead.
Stating a strong thesis.
Showcasing how a personal narrative fits into a larger truth or circumstance.
A conclusion that confirms or disproves the thesis statement. But also may leave you as the reader with more questions.
Joel Léon will be leading a PTW Masterclass called Taking It Personal: Pulling From Our Past to Shape Our Present that focuses on personal essay writing on Nov. 17th. Make sure you register to attend live.
Shout Mouse Press is hiring a Programs Manager. (Hybrid in Washington, D.C., $55k)
Aster(ix), is proud to be a writers’ first publication, especially for those from marginalized identities whose work may have not found a home by mainstream outlets. Their upcoming issue will focus on debut fiction.
The Helena Whitehill Book Award is a prestigious INTERNATIONAL prize for adult writers. This year we are beyond thrilled to announce it will be judged by the inimitable Ilya Kaminski, a decorated poet who in 2019 was named among “12 Artists who changed the world” by the BBC.
Submissions for the 2024 Chapbook Open are open from September 1 through December 15, 2024. Rita Bullwinkel, author of the collection Belly Up and the new novel Headshot, will serve as guest judge and will crown this year’s winner for The Masters Review! The winner receives a $3,000 prize, along with fifty copies of their winning manuscript.
Andrews McMeel to Publish Inspirational Books Under Amber Lotus Imprint
Danzy Senna on the Creative Labor That’s Stolen From Marginalized Writers
In These Literary Streets
Griot & Grey Owl Black Southern Writers Conference, a powerful gathering of Black Southern voices dedicated to exploring and celebrating the rich narratives of home, land, and heritage. This year’s conference will take place in the heart of Durham, North Carolina, from November 1st to 3rd, 2024.
